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<title>Shana Tova, Hamlet by Monsterunderkilt</title>
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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/26722693">Shana Tova, Hamlet</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/Monsterunderkilt/pseuds/Monsterunderkilt'>Monsterunderkilt</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>The Manse [14]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Actor RPF, Celebrities - Fandom, RPF - Fandom, Real Person Fanfic - Fandom, Real Person Fiction</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>F/M, Multi</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-09-30</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-09-30</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-06 08:28:21</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Teen And Up Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>1,051</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/26722693</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/Monsterunderkilt/pseuds/Monsterunderkilt</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>The men test my fasting abilities on Yom Kippur</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>The Manse [14]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/series/1209447</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>Shana Tova, Hamlet</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>It’s 3:30 pm on Yom Kippur and I’m not even five minutes into watching <em> Hamlet </em> (something has to distract me until sunset) when Alan waltzes into the living room. </p><p> </p><p>He grins as soon as he recognises a perfect moment to woo. “Lady, shall I lie in your lap?”</p><p> </p><p>I snicker. “No, my lord.”</p><p> </p><p>“I mean, my head upon your lap?”</p><p> </p><p>“Ay my Lord.”</p><p> </p><p>“Do you think I meant CUNT-ry matters?”</p><p> </p><p>“That’s not how you spell it.”</p><p> </p><p>“Ah, reader jokes.”</p><p> </p><p>I hold out my arm to the cushion beside me and say “Be my guest, dear Alan. Madam is fasting and needs not to be reminded of that which she cannot have.”</p><p> </p><p>Alan bows and turns to sink into the sofa seat beside me, tilting his head upon my shoulder. I pat his hand in my lap. “God I love this film.”</p><p> </p><p>Alan nods. “Hmmmm yes, it is a delightful romp indeed.” We watch for a beat, and then he sits up. “There’s an intermission, right?”</p><p> </p><p>“Of course.”</p><p> </p><p>Alan smiles and sighs, settling back into the couch cushion. “K Bran is my hero.”</p><p> </p><p>Just then, I feel two hands slide from my shoulders to my collarbone, massaging in a sultry slowness. Both Alan and I turn to see Ken standing behind the sofa, leaning down to catch my mouth in a kiss. He stretches his smile so wide I lose my wits for a moment.</p><p> </p><p>“Sweetheart,” he whispers into my ear, “I must confess, that from our bedroom terrace, I had a bird’s eye view of you doing yoga in the courtyard garden earlier, and let’s just say that you had me standing at attention.”</p><p> </p><p>My eyes widen and I blush. Alan holds his hand against his chest and flutters his eyelashes like a demure lady who has just overheard the most vulgar thing she has ever imagined. </p><p> </p><p>I blink up at Ken, taking every ounce of willpower not to hop over the sofa and jump him right there on the living room carpet. I take a breath. “So now that we’re married I am privy to the famous cheeky chutzpah of a Sir Kenneth, am I?”</p><p> </p><p>Alan’s jaw drops. “Wait one bloody minute… you two got hitched without me?”</p><p> </p><p>“We got hitched without anyone,” I say with a shrug.</p><p> </p><p>Sir Ken takes my hands in his and kisses my knuckles. “It was a... skyclad woodland pagan ritual or some such.”</p><p> </p><p>“You were what now?” Alan squeaks. “In the where then?”</p><p> </p><p>I squeeze Ken’s hand to prevent it from reaching for one of my erogenous zones, which is everywhere at the moment. “On the Autumnal Equinox, we presented ourselves to the cardinal directions in naught but what the goddess gave us.”</p><p> </p><p>Alan gulps. “Well, that is dripping with a bit too much sapphic energy to not be a queer union.”</p><p> </p><p>“Well of course it’s queer. It was a Manse harem wedding. Nothing normative about that.” I reach up and squeeze Ken’s bicep. “It was fun, though, was it not?”</p><p> </p><p>Ken nods. “A singular experience,” he says, then takes my hand and tries to lead me off the sofa. </p><p> </p><p>I playfully resist. “Kenny, I’m fasting!”</p><p> </p><p>“I know! I thought you could use a physical distraction right about now that the 2:00 hunger pangs are past.”</p><p> </p><p>“No, no, no, fasting includes adult relations.”</p><p> </p><p>“You mean excludes!” Alan interjects.</p><p> </p><p>I watch Ken’s face crease with wonderment. “You’re to tell me that you’ve been starving since sundown last night and you’re not even allowed to take an hour to indulge your newlywed obligations?”</p><p> </p><p>“I wouldn’t call them obligations so much as perks, but yeah… it’s atonement time, Kenny. We’re baking the honey apple chicken and vegetables in a bit and having overly sweet wine but until that damn sun goes down, we must suffer a while longer.”</p><p> </p><p>“Well I wouldn’t call watching <em> Hamlet </em>suffering,” Alan quips.</p><p> </p><p>Ken places his hands on the back of the sofa and takes a deep breath, staring at me with puppy dog eyes. Then he looks to Alan. “Did you know this about her?”</p><p> </p><p>“What, the penchant for Jewish holiday observations? Yeah, I thought everybody knew.”</p><p> </p><p>“Come sit with us, Sir,” I say, tugging at his sleeve. “Be my live audio commentary for this brilliant film of yours and let’s celebrate properly in a few hours.” </p><p> </p><p>With that, he walks around the sofa and takes his place in the seat next to me. I wrap my arms around his neck and give his big ear a kiss, tickling him enough to get a little chuckle out of those tight lips. Alan leans onto me, kissing my ear to make me giggle. We settle in and watch, and after a few minutes, Ken starts softly pointing out little tidbits about filming that makes us rapt with interest. Luckily, Alan and I are already profusely familiar with the play because when Sir gets going with his stories he is indefatigable. His ceaseless voice cradles my psyche like a velvet bean bag chair.</p><p> </p><p>After an hour, we pause the movie to start food prep in the kitchen. They sous chef for me like pros. </p><p> </p><p>“Are you going to do similar when we watch <em> The Tempest </em> this week, Alan?” I ask. “I’m curious about what it’s like to be on set with Julie Taymor.”</p><p> </p><p>Alan hops up and down with joy. “Oh, yes, I was so honored to work with her again after the fun we had on <em> Titus. </em> I will spill all the tea for you!”</p><p> </p><p>I kiss Alan on the cheek and grin. “Awesome! It’s a date!”</p><p> </p><p>“Don’t I get a date as well?” Ken asks.</p><p> </p><p>I dry my hands and grab a nice handful of his bumcheek as I pass by him to head back into the living room. “I’ll check my calendar, Sir!” I say over my shoulder as I blow him a kiss.</p><p> </p><p>Alan witnesses Ken’s lusty smirk. “Got to make sure you don’t catch her on another fast!” he says as he passes Ken and repeats my maneuver, surprising him a little. </p><p> </p><p>Ken gives Alan the evil eye. “Now you watch out, or she’ll get too turned on with such behavior.”</p><p> </p><p>“Wait, are you two making out without me?” I yell from the other room.</p><p> </p><p>“Not yet!” they both say in unison, thus making my fucking week.</p>
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